


The stars look very different today

by mlkcartonangel



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, I guess this is a songfic?, I hope some of you are able to enjoy this, It’s so melodramatic, apparently I’m really in to making myself miserable, vinnie t was the best boi, you will not change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlkcartonangel/pseuds/mlkcartonangel
Summary: Ziggy says goodbye to Major Tom.
Relationships: Edward Spellman & Hilda Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman & Vinegar Tom
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The stars look very different today

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with the idea of this fic while listening to David Bowie's "Space Oddity." Imo it fits rather beautifully.

**11:48 PM, November 9th, 1989.**

* * *

Hilda was pattering around in the kitchen preparing a special meal for Vinegar Tom, consisting of all his favourite foods—hare, carrots and apples—in hopes of tempting his apatite. The poor lamb had fallen ill merely two nights prior. No diagnostic spells could tell what was wrong with him, nor could any potions alleviate his pain. It was quite clear to most that he was in irrevocable and inevitable decline, yet Zelda remained heaven-bent on him regaining full health.

She knew that somewhere deep down Zelda was well aware of this. She had to be. Nobody had the heart or courage to tear the frayed thread of hope (no matter how false it may be) away from her, so they played along and let her dangle.

In retrospect this was almost certainly a massive mistake. Zelda was never able to accept, and by extension recover, the loss of her beloved familiar.

There was a faint hum accompanied by slightly off key piano stokes floating through the house. Zelda wasn't nearly as good at piano as she was at singing, but Hilda found it enchanting all the same.

Letting the notes guide her away from the kitchen and into the parlour where she found Vinegar Tom perched on a cushion atop the well worn high-back chesterfield, with Zelda trying to get reacquainted with the keys.

It wouldn't be a stretch to suggest the two were meant to find each other. When Zelda expressed interest in him, their father had informed them that he had been in the back of the registry forever. No witch wanted him, for he was too old and ugly. Father insisted that she chose another more suitable option, as a High Priest's daughter could never be seen with such a disgrace for a familiar.

She didn’t.

Father threw her in the Cain pit that night.

Hilda felt immeasurably silly for being so envious of the bond Zelda held with Vinegar Tom. He had been with her throughout all of her life, knew her better than anyone.

When Zelda left for her world travels, not to be seen or heard from for nearly 200 years, he had been with her. Hilda wasn't. Their connection reminded her of the time before Zelda's dark baptism; before her big sister—her sworn protector—had turned cruel and harrowed her to death. A time when they were inseparable. The best of friends.

Edward pulled her out of her thoughts and back down to earth, "She could be great if she actually put in the effort."

"Yes, but don't you think it's rather charming?"

He let out only a low, noncommittal hum in response. Edward had never cared much for the basset hound, nor for Hilda's spiders. Nothing would ever be good enough for his little sisters. Sure, Edward had always been overprotective of them, but his overbearing need to control and scrutinize their every move increased tenfold after father's death.

Hilda found herself missing a lot of things lately, things so long past she was hardly sure they ever existed in the first place.

Vinegar Tom’s eyes were trained solely on his ward, basking in the love flowing through the keys of the piano and her dulcet voice. As the song went on and Zelda’s hands began to noticeably shake, Vinegar Tom’s gaze was drifting farther and farther away. Whether or not Zelda was conscious of this, Hilda didn’t know, but this felt an awful lot like a farewell. A by proxy swan song.

_Ground control to Major Tom  
_ _Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong  
_ _Can you hear me, Major Tom?  
_ _Can you hear me, Major Tom?_  
 _Can you hear me, Major Tom...?  
_ _Can you hear–_

Sensing the shift in the room, Ambrose went to check on Vinegar Tom. Turning back towards his uncle, he solemnly shook his head.

Not dissimilar to Vinegar Tom, the song was cut short. The floodgates that keep Zelda's emotions contained burst open, drowning Hilda in a bottomless sorrow and guilt that was not her own. Judging from Edward's reaction, he felt it too.

Zelda learnt fairly young how to put up mental blocks, keeping magical intruders out, effectively making it impossible to understand what was going on inside that beautiful and wicked mind of hers. Though in situations such as these, she can't keep the walls from crumbling, emotions spraying those in the blast radius with such force that makes the power of Tsar Bomba seem minuscule.

"Zelds-" Hilda rushed over to comfort her sister, who's body was wracked by sobs.

"Leave me!" The speed of which Zelda turned shouldn't have been possible, and the look in her eyes was positively deranged. If Hilda had any sense at all, she'd be halfway out the door by now, but she doesn't—not when Zelda was hurt—so instead she tentatively approached her.

When confronted, Zelda usually responds in one of two ways; fleeing or bludgeoning. Apparently she didn’t feel like digging tonight because she spirited herself away before anyone could reach her.

—-—-—-—

It was around four in the morning when Zelda finally stumbled her way back to their bedroom rambling incoherently. The only thing Hilda could make out was her own name and the overpowering scent of whiskey and vodka. Witches have a much higher alcohol tolerance than mortals, so it takes a considerable amount of drink to get them _this_ inebriated.

This wasn't the first, second or third time she's seen Zelda so out of it. It never gets easier, only more infuriating. Hilda wants so desperately to shake some sense—and hopefully some sobriety—into her sister.

Due to their link, the fuzziness and confusion from the frankly obscene amount of alcohol in Zelda's system was having an effect on her too. Zelda made her way over to Hilda's side of the bed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other uneasily, seemingly waiting for permission to join her. In moments like these, Hilda feels like the elder one of the two. Sliding over to make room, she lifted up the blanket and not a second later Zelda leapt in.

”He’s just lost. He’ll come back. Right, Hildie?”

_He’ll come back._

”...Hildie?”

In spite of the sickening smell of liquor wafting from her sister, Hilda pulled her closer, gently coaxing tangles out of her auburn hair while Zelda cried herself to sleep tucked away in her shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> It was going to be longer but I decided to just leave it here. I’m somewhat content with the first part of the fic, but after the lyrics it just seems bleh to me. Couldn’t really find a way to fix it, so I hope it’s at least serviceable. Also, first caos fic, please go easy on me <3


End file.
